Chapter Text
The world was dark, the land scorched and soaked through with blood. The blood of his enemies. The blood of his friends. His body screamed in pain and agony. His swords trembled in his grip. Kneeling before him, the man’s hair was drenched in bright red—not a single strand of blond visible anymore.
“Kill me.”
Zoro shifted his grip on Enma. It was aching to be released. Thirsty for blood. Domination.
“Kill me, Zoro. Please.”
He bit down hard on his lip. Unbidden, his hand raised Enma over his head. Horror flooded his system as he realized what he was about to do. No! No, no, no! Stop!, he thought, desperate to regain control of himself but the sword had drained him dry of energy. He couldn’t take over.
“It hurts… so much. Zoro, hurry…”
“No…” Zoro forced himself to speak. The word barely inched out of his lips before he lost control again. He grasped for it, wresting it back from Enma. His arm shook. He couldn’t keep the demon down forever. He was too weak now… exhausted.
“ Kill me! ” Sanji screamed, terror-stricken, his visible eye tinted red with blood that ran down his face in endless rivulets.
Zoro felt his arm shake one more time. He tried and failed to take back his own mind. He’d lost. In his mind he heard the demon cackle maniacally as the sword whistled downward, eager to deliver death.
Zoro woke up gasping, his body slick with sweat.
The room was dark. Quiet. His heart beat loud and fast in his chest. He could still feel the nightmare, its cold, poison-tipped claws digging deep into his skin. He put a hand to his head, trying to orient himself so he could calm down. He was in Wano. They’d just beaten Kaido and Big Mom. They had a huge feast. Everyone celebrated. Sanji was—
Sanji.
He whipped his head around, his hands groping for the futon next to him. He felt warmth. A body. Relief made his body go slack and he immediately felt stupid for worrying. It was just a dream. Just a dumb nightmare.
“Zoro…?”
He felt his heart jump to his throat when Sanji stirred and sat up, drowsily rubbing one eye.
“You okay?” he asked. “Did you open your wounds back up in your sleep or something?”
“No,” Zoro said, trying for a neutral tone. “I’m fine… It’s just—hot. Couldn’t sleep.”
Even in the dark, he could feel Sanji’s piercing gaze. He looked away, hoping the blond wouldn’t notice the way his hands were trembling because in his mind’s eye they were covered in blood. His blood.
“Zoro.” A hand covered one of his. The cook’s voice was rough—deep and heavy from sleep—but gentle. “Talk to me.”
Zoro held Sanji’s hand, gripped it tight. He closed his eyes. Relived the nightmare. He shuddered.
“Bad dream?”
“Something like that,” he said, sighing.
Sanji looked at him for a moment before reaching over beside the futon and grabbing a match and using it to turn the lamp on. He had to let go of Zoro’s hand to do this but the instant glow of lamplight against Sanji’s features well made up for it. His blond hair, a little mussed from deep sleep, tumbled in soft curls to his shoulders. A bandage on his cheek did nothing to mar his looks. He was a prince, after all. Born and bred. Golden hair, deep blue eyes, and the kind of charisma that drew looks from every corner of every room… All things Zoro used to hate about him and now all things he adored. Sanji raised his arms, opening them wide.
“Come here,” he said.
Zoro hesitated. Whenever Sanji was like this, whenever he was soft and intimate, it was still jarring. They’d spent most of their days bickering one way or another. Zoro had known his own feelings for Sanji since Thriller Bark, but he’d never expected Sanji to have loved him for much longer. I loved you from the beginning, he’d said when Zoro finally crumbled here in Wano, confessing his heart the moment he and Sanji were alone for the first time since Dressrosa.
“Come on,” Sanji insisted, sounding almost impatient.
More embarrassed than reluctant, Zoro leaned into Sanji’s chest and let himself be held. It was… nice. Really nice. As much as he acted otherwise, Sanji was a gentleman down to his core and he made it known to Zoro now as he held him in his arms.
“I killed you,” Zoro murmured, his forehead resting against Sanji’s shoulder. “You were begging me to. And I did it.” He felt gentle fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp, and a reassuring palm rubbing circles into his back.
“I’m alive,” Sanji said. He put his chin on the top of Zoro’s head. “Here, listen.” He gently nudged Zoro down until his ear was right up to his chest. When the swordsman closed his eye, he heard it: Sanji’s heart. It beat slow and steady and strong. He gripped Sanji’s shoulder with one hand. He wasn’t going to cry.
“It was just a dream.”
“It was,” Sanji said softly. “I’m here. And I don’t plan on dying. Especially not because of you.”
Zoro pulled away to look at him. Candlelight flickered, a small draft coming into the room and making everything feel colder. “When I said I came back from Hell to kill you, I was pissed off.”
“I could tell.”
“You asked me to. I promised I would. I hated you for that.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“You knew I’d do it if I had to.” Zoro’s expression turned dark. “You’re an asshole.”
“I was 99 percent sure you wouldn’t have to.”
“And the 1 percent?”
“I wouldn’t let it happen.” Sanji took Zoro’s hand from his shoulder and held it in both of his own hands. “I only said it to be safe. And to be fair, I didn’t know how you felt about me when I asked you to do that. I thought you would’ve enjoyed killing me.” He laughed.
Zoro didn’t laugh. “I can and will kill you if you want me to. If I have to.”
Sanji smiled. “You’re a man of your word.”
“But I’d have to live with it for the rest of my life. I…” Zoro grit his teeth. “I’d probably wish I were dead.”
The cook’s expression changed. He drew Zoro in closer again, placing a kiss on his bandaged forehead. “I will never let it happen. I swear.”
It was still strange, feeling Sanji’s sincerity directed right at him. It was still hard to trust. But he craved it. He needed it. He loved Sanji. He could never deny it now. Zoro looked Sanji in the eye.
“Prove it to me,” he said quietly. “That you’re here. With me.”
Sanji blinked, looking infuriatingly oblivious. “What do you mean ‘prove it,’ I’m right here. We’re holding hands, Moss.”
“You know what I mean!” Zoro snapped, flushing. He snatched his hand back and dove into the futon cover, burning with embarrassment. “Forget it, I’m going back to sleep.”
“Wait, wait,” Sanji said hastily. He pulled the cover back but Zoro kept his back to him. “Are you—are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
“Figure it out before I fall asleep, Curly.”
“You… want to cuddle?”
Zoro shot up and snarled at him. “ No , moron! I want to fuck you! Did wearing a topknot every day fry all your braincells? I—why are you looking at me like that?”
Sanji’s face was red—redder than Zoro had ever seen. He was looking at Zoro with shock and… Was that horror?
“If you hate the idea so much, then spit it out,” Zoro growled.
“I-I don’t,” Sanji stammered. “I’m… I didn’t… This is the first time we’re sleeping in the same room. I thought about it. I did. But I didn’t think you… Isn’t this too fast? We just started going out, I don’t—”
Zoro lunged forward and kissed him, cutting off whatever Sanji wanted to say. He didn’t care anymore. He wanted this. He needed this.
Sanji melted into the kiss almost as soon as it started. He caught Zoro’s face in his hands and kissed him back with just as much fervor. Their mouths moved against each other, hot and sweet and tender. When lips parted, tongues slipped through. Zoro could taste the cigarettes on Sanji’s breath and, just like he’d always known it would, it turned him on. He pulled away to catch his breath but Sanji was on him in an instant, mouthing at his neck where it met his shoulder. Sanji pushed the collar of Zoro’s yukata down and off his shoulders, exposing bandaged skin. His pale hands palmed over Zoro’s bare chest, his touch leaving Zoro’s skin hot with want.
“Can I touch you?” Sanji asked.
Zoro snorted. “You already are.”
“Oh. Right. Can I touch you… more?”
“Yes.”
Sanji grinned. “Tell me to stop when you don’t want it.”
Zoro rolled his eyes. “Just touch me, idiot.”
“Don’t say I didn’t ask first.”
Not once in his life did Zoro ever have sex with anyone. He knew how it went, but he never cared about it more than he had to. Sex and intimacy were so far removed from his own dreams and ambitions that he just completely forgot they existed. Until Sanji. He’d never wanted—longed for anyone the way he did for Sanji. Never ached to touch and be touched. Never held on to anyone’s every word so tightly that it hurt. And it hurt like hell sometimes.
“Zoro,” Sanji murmured against his skin, “I missed you.” His lips left a trail of kisses from Zoro’s neck down to his chest where his tongue caught a nipple. Zoro’s breath hitched and Sanji glanced up at him. The cook smirked and closed his lips around the areola and sucked. Zoro threw his head back with a moan, heat pooling fast in the pit of his stomach.
“Gods…” he said.
Sanji kept going, sucking and laving his tongue over the hard nub. His free hand pinched and tugged at the other nipple, sending rippling waves of pleasure through Zoro’s body. It felt so good. It felt amazing.
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Sanji said as he rolled both nipples between his fingers, “but your tits are really sexy.”
“Shut it,” Zoro gasped. He was reeling from sensation. He never knew he was this sensitive. He’d never touched himself like this.
Squeezing and rubbing Zoro’s chest, Sanji moved downwards again, avoiding bandages. He nosed apart the folds of yukata to reveal Zoro’s fundoshi and then, without any hesitation, he ripped it off with his teeth. Zoro felt his cock spring out, full and erect. The cold air on his skin made him reflexively want to cover back up but he ignored the feeling. When Sanji’s hand closed around his shaft, he held his breath and screwed his eye shut.
“Just a bit wet,” the cook said softly. “We’ll change that.”
He spit on his hand and started fisting Zoro’s cock, thumbing the slit. He moved leisurely, almost agonizingly slow, stoking the fire in Zoro’s belly. He wanted more. He felt his own hands creeping onto his own chest. When he realized it, he froze, feeling blush spread like fire across his cheeks. Sanji smiled knowingly.
“You can touch yourself, Moss. Leave this to me.”
“You sound so fucking annoying right now.”
“I’m trying to be suave, you jerk,” Sanji retorted.
“Don’t treat me like…” Zoro clenched his jaw. “Don’t treat me like a woman.”
“I’m not. I’m literally giving you a handjob, Zoro.” He jerked his hand a little, making Zoro groan again. “I know you’re a man. I’ve always known.”
And he loved Zoro anyway. The truth of it made the swordsman a little too emotional. He felt his dick twitch in Sanji’s hand.
“Oh, did you like that?” Sanji grinned menacingly. “You like when I admit I was always attracted to you?”
“Shut up.” Zoro didn’t want Sanji to talk. He wanted him to move.
“Whenever I talk to women,” Sanji said, stroking Zoro’s length, “I don’t think about them. I think about you.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m serious. I told you, I’ve always loved you.” He pushed Zoro’s legs apart and bent down. “From the moment Mihawk cut you open, I loved you.” He took Zoro in his mouth and it was… unreal. The wet heat was almost unbearably good. Sanji’s mouth was on him. Sanji’s mouth. The mouth that sang women’s praises day and night. The vulgar mouth that spat curses every other second. The mouth that reeked of smoke and seafood. His lover’s mouth.
“Cook,” Zoro said through gritted teeth. “You don’t… have to do that…”
Sanji shot him a look and that was that. He knew there was no turning back. He leaned back on one hand and used the other to slowly, hesitantly tweak one of his nipples. The alien sensation was too much. A new kind of drug he didn’t know he’d get into so fast. This, paired with Sanji’s tongue moving up and down the bottom of his shaft and swirling over the head, was nothing short of divine. He’d sworn to be the king of Hell, but if this was what Heaven felt like, he would gladly give up the throne. Sanji was his angel, golden halo and all.
“Shit… Curly, slow down…”
His hand had left his chest and was buried in Sanji’s hair. He wanted to move, to thrust into the blond’s mouth. Sanji’s fingers dug into his thighs and he sucked, hard. Zoro’s hips bucked before he could think. No, he’d given up thinking. Leaning against one hand, he fucked into Sanji’s mouth and groaned long and loud whenever he hit the back of his lover’s throat. Sanji moaned too, and the sound went right through to his cock. He felt fingers snake their way around to grab his ass.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck…”
He thrust harder and faster, his hand clutching a fistful of Sanji’s hair. He was climbing, nearing his climax. He could feel it. He moaned, both hands on Sanji’s head now.
“Cook…” he said breathlessly. “Sanji…!”
Sanji’s hands left his ass and went up to grab his tits, groping and pinching his nipples.
“Oh… oh fuck… ngh—ah—shit!” Zoro could feel himself losing it. He was so close. So, so close. “Sanji, I’m—”
The blond pinched down on his nipples harder and he lost it completely, falling right off the edge and tumbling into oblivion. He came with a shudder and an almost feral cry, spurting right into Sanji’s mouth and down his throat. The urge to fuck his cum down his lover’s throat was blinding but he resisted. He watched Sanji pull away and straighten. He made a point to look Zoro in the eye as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the lamplight.
“Watermelon,” the cook said, licking his lips. “Maybe a little ramen in there.”
Zoro flushed. “I didn’t need to know that, asshole.”
“You said my name.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.” Sanji started toward him, his visible eye dark with desire. “I heard you.”
Zoro clamped his mouth shut. There was nothing he could say to defend himself. He’d done it in his dreams. Called Sanji by name. But he’d never found it in himself to really say it aloud, especially when his own reaction to himself saying it was humiliating.
“Say it again,” Sanji whispered, his hands on Zoro’s shoulders, pushing him down onto the futon. “Say my name again, Zoro.”
“No, I—”
“Zoro. Please.”
Zoro closed his eyes. “Sanji,” he said, his voice almost inaudible. “There. Now are you ha—mmmph!”
Sanji had pounced on him, silencing him with a kiss with enough force to bruise. Zoro learned very quickly that Sanji was capable of switching from being perfectly calm and playful to totally untamed. Sanji kissed him like they were about to die. He kissed him like he wanted to forget they were two separate people. Like he wanted to permanently fuse them together, molecule by molecule. Zoro wrapped his arms around Sanji’s neck, pulling him down further until his body was flush against Zoro’s. He was hard again, his length poking into Sanji’s stomach.
“I used to dream about you saying it,” Sanji said against Zoro’s mouth. “I would jerk off to the fantasy.”
Zoro hadn’t known how important it was to Sanji. He himself had just gotten so used to never saying it that the habit stuck until it was simply too embarrassing to change. It was too late to go back and tell himself to let go of his damn pride, but it wasn’t too late to start.
“Sanji,” he said again, a little louder than the last.
A groan spilled from the cook’s lips. He sat up and tugged at his yukata, pulling it apart without removing the obi. Zoro raised one foot to yank off Sanji’s fundoshi, freeing his hard cock. He wasn’t girthy, but he was long. Longer than Zoro was. Which was kind of annoying.
“Thinking about something?”
Sanji was straddling him, his knees bracketing Zoro’s thighs. In the lamplight, Sanji looked soft, intimate. He’d gotten bigger since he’d left, his shoulders wider and stronger than they used to be. He was every bit a man and knowing that made Zoro’s cock throb with want.
“You’re too fucking hairy,” he managed to say.
“Genes. You should see my… well, I got it from him.” Sanji grimaced. “I’d be happy if that was the only thing I got from him.”
Even without much of an explanation, Zoro still knew. Nami had told him everything. He reached out and his fingers ghosted over the hair that covered Sanji’s chest, trailing down his stomach to his navel and lower still.
“Makes you look good.” Zoro’s fingers traced along Sanji’s shaft, making him shiver.
“You like hairy men?”
“I never liked anyone,” he said, looking up at Sanji, “until I met you.”
Sanji bent down over him, his hands cradling Zoro’s jaw. He closed his eyes, put his forehead against Zoro’s. “I think I need to fuck you,” he said breathily.
Zoro had had an inkling before, but now he knew for sure: he didn’t care about anything else. He just wanted Sanji, to feel him close, to see him at his most vulnerable, to carve this memory into his heart. He could still remember how he’d felt at Zou—angry, but numb, shocked to speechlessness. He’d feigned aloofness, pretended he didn’t give a shit. But it tore him up inside. He couldn’t bear it.
“Then fuck me, bastard,” he hissed, tugging Sanji down by his neck, both of them groaning in unison as their cocks slid against each other. Sanji reached down, used his own precum to slide his hand around both their cocks. The sweet friction shot pleasure through Zoro and he could feel need swelling inside him again.
“You’ve never done this?” Sanji looked into Zoro’s eye. “With anyone?”
“Never. And I never wanted to.”
“And you’ll let me?”
Zoro tipped his head up, angling for a kiss. Sanji obliged him. “Only you,” the swordsman whispered, his cheeks red.
Sanji put his head down against Zoro’s chest and sighed before canting his hips forward and stroking their cocks. He threw his head back, moaning, and Zoro licked up the column of his throat. He propped himself up on one forearm, his free hand pulling on Sanji’s hair. Nobody would know when the blond left this room in the morning, just how much of a mess he looked right now, coming apart in front of Zoro’s eyes.
“Zoro,” he whined, his strokes getting faster, “Zorooo… Gods… Feels amazing…”
Zoro felt his stomach twist. He let go of Sanji’s hair and wrapped his hand around their cocks and Sanji’s hand.
“Sanji,” he grunted, feeling himself approaching his peak.
“Ah—Zo—ah—fuck, I’m going to—”
They both came together, pulsing, spilling thick ropes of white on Zoro’s obi and bandaged stomach. Sanji abruptly pushed himself up on his feet and rummaged through a nearby drawer, pulling out a cloth and a small corked bottle. He used the cloth to gently clean Zoro’s bandages.
“Chopper is going to kill us,” Sanji said, only half-joking.
Zoro huffed a laugh before pointing at the bottle Sanji had put down on the tatami mats next to the lamp. A clear liquid sat inside, but it didn’t seem like water. “What is that?”
“I found it earlier…” Sanji said, looking suspiciously sheepish. “Ryokan probably just always have this kind of thing.”
Zoro narrowed his eyes. He could tell Sanji was lying, but he didn’t care enough to figure it out right now. He was too hot, too sweaty. He needed this yukata off. Wordlessly, he untied his obi and tugged it off, casting it aside. Sanji stared at him with wide eyes.
“W-What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m stripping.” With that he took off the yukata too and it joined his obi on the floor. When he saw the look on Sanji’s face, he rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never seen me naked before. You just gave me a blowjob, idiot.”
“I know, but—” Sanji seemed to struggle for words. “This just… makes it feel real. Somehow.”
“I’d be damned if it wasn’t.” Zoro started untying the blond’s obi with deft fingers. Before long, Sanji was just as naked as he was. Without their yukata, they could see every bandaged wound, burn, cut, bruise… Zoro traced Sanji’s collarbone where a long strip of bandage covered a section of it. “We’ve been roughed up pretty bad this time.”
“I dunno, Skypiea was worse.”
“For you maybe.”
Sanji made a face. “Shut up.” He put his hand over Zoro’s wandering fingers. “I wasn’t worried… but for a couple of days I thought you’d never wake up.”
“I promised you I’d kill you.”
“And now you don’t have to.” Sanji laughed softly. “You came all the way back from Hell for nothing.”
“No,” Zoro said. “I came back for you. I…” He hesitated, ducking his head to hide the look on his face. “I’ll always come back for you.”
“Zoro… you moron.” Sanji flicked the swordsman’s forehead, making him jolt backward. “You have more important things to think about.”
“So? Why can’t I think about all of that and you?”
“Because I’m not—”
“You’re worth it,” Zoro said hotly. “I’m not the only one who would say that.”
Sanji paused. Then, slowly, he smiled. “Yeah… I know. Sorry.”
“Good. Now hurry up and fuck me, Cook.” Zoro leaned back on his forearms again, coaxing Sanji forward with his eye. The blond pinned him down with his body, crushing their lips together in another long, heady, hungry kiss.
“I’ve never fucked a man,” Sanji admitted in between kisses. “You’re the first.”
“Shut up.” Zoro reached down and grabbed Sanji’s ass, squeezing until his nails dug into the skin. A soft groan escaped the cook’s lips.
“Gods, you’re so impatient, Moss,” he muttered, nuzzling Zoro’s neck as his own hands traveled down over the swordsman’s chest, kneading the soft flesh and tweaking their hard brown peaks. “Slow down and savor it, why don’t you?”
Zoro couldn’t say it—couldn’t tell Sanji aloud how badly he ached. He didn’t even know what he was aching for anymore. He just wanted, needed more. Desire coiled around his insides, holding him captive until he got what he wanted.
“Tell me you want it,” Sanji whispered against the shell of his ear, making him shiver.
“I—ah… ngh…”
“Tell me.” Sanji cruelly twisted a nipple.
“Ngh! Shit…” Zoro’s breaths were ragged, his mind foggy. “Cook… shit. Just fuck me already.”
“Be more specific, Moss. Or are you gonna cum just from me playing with your tits?”
“Fuck you,” Zoro spat. “Fuck you, Sa—ah!—nji… Fuck…” Sanji’s ministrations on his nipples felt incredible, but incomplete. He needed something else. More. He bit his lip and caved. “Your… Your cock. Inside, now.”
A grin lit up Sanji’s face and he threw his arms around Zoro’s shoulders. “I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll need me to carry you to the Sunny when we leave.”
A wave of anticipation hit Zoro and he let out a small moan. Sanji sat up again, kneeling between Zoro’s thighs. He grabbed the bottle and uncorked it, letting the clear liquid spill onto his fingers. It definitely was not water. When the blond wrapped his wet fingers around Zoro’s throbbing cock and pumped it, the hot slickness was enough to send a shockwave of pleasure through him. Even as he moaned, Sanji was moving his fingers downward, pressing against his entrance.
“Fuck.” Zoro gripped the futon underneath, bracing himself.
“I’ll go slow,” Sanji said reassuringly, leaning over and kissing him. “Tell me if it hurts.”
The swordsman didn’t have time to tell him he was used to pain, lethal wounds being par for the course when it came to being a world-renowned pirate. The moment Sanji’s finger slipped inside of him, he felt his world fracture a little. He’d never, not once, imagined this feeling. It felt like taking a shit, but different. Foreign.
“You’re too tight, baby,” Sanji cooed. “Relax.”
Don’t call me that, Zoro wanted to snap, but he was too busy trying to adjust to the feeling of fingers in his ass. He squirmed, Sanji’s free hand lazily working his cock as he slipped a second finger in.
“Slow down!” Zoro gasped. It was hard enough to relax with a single finger.
“It’ll be okay,” Sanji said over and over, his voice oddly soothing when otherwise it was usually grating. He pushed in a third finger and Zoro felt his back arch up from the futon, a half-groan half-whine escaping him. Sanji didn’t stop stroking his cock while he fingered him. His fingers are damn long, Zoro thought irritably and just as he did, Sanji curled his fingers and hit something.
“Ah—ah! Fuck!” Zoro pressed a fist to his face, pleasure ripping through him.
“There?” Sanji asked, his fingers pushing and rubbing against the same spot.
“Oh… Oh, Gods… Sa—Sanji… That’s—ngh—ah—ah! That feels…”
“Good?”
Zoro nodded, all rationality gone, replaced with need and want and lust. He tried desperately to cling to sanity, but with every touch, every flick, every stroke, he was losing himself completely. He’d never done this, never wanted to do this. Control was so important. Self-mastery was crucial. This wasn’t something he’d ever trained to do. Oh, but he’d thought of it. Countless times. Alone in the gym, in the bath, at night in his cot. He’d thought about the throbbing in his groin, the ache.
“… Zoro…?”
Zoro’s hazy eye and half-lidded expression must have done something to Sanji because the man was on him again in an instant, covering him with kisses, nipping at his tan skin until it bruised where bandages didn’t protect him. “Sanji,” he whimpered, lust erasing every inch of propriety left in his body. “Fuck me. Please.”
“I will,” Sanji promised huskily, pressing sloppy kisses to his lips, jaw, neck, shoulders. Then he straightened. After coating his dick in the bottle’s contents, he lined himself up to Zoro’s wet, twitching entrance. “Gods, Zoro, you’re gorgeous.”
Zoro could only reply with a moan that escalated into a keening cry when he felt Sanji’s blunt head pushing into him. Hot and searing, it was like being split in half. Sanji cleaved into him, inch by delicious inch, spearing him through and through with his dick.
“Zoro,” Sanji gasped. “You’re so hot. Gods. You feel amazing.”
“Sanji… ah !”
The cook rubbed circles into Zoro’s hips with his thumbs. It seemed to take forever for him to bottom out but once he did, he leaned over and caught Zoro’s lips, swallowing his moans. All Zoro could think about was the heat, the fullness, and the lack of movement. He groaned and bucked his hips, grinding against Sanji, and relishing the feeling.
“You meditate so much and you still don’t know how to be patient.” Sanji pushed his slick fingers through Zoro’s hair. “Stay still for me, Moss.”
He pulled out to the tip, leaving Zoro feeling heinously empty, then snapped his hips forward in a vicious first thrust that sent Zoro reeling. His back was arching up off the futon again as his voice dissolved into moans and whines and whimpers that sounded in time with Sanji’s slow, deep thrusts. Delicious pain and scorching hot pleasure filled Zoro’s senses. He didn’t know how long, how much, how loud he cried out with every thrust—he didn’t care. All of Wano could hear him getting his brains fucked out of him and he wouldn’t care.
Sanji was a generous lover, as much as he teased. He pressed into Zoro, catching his wrists and lacing their fingers on either side of his head. When a particularly deep thrust elicited a high-pitched cry from Zoro, Sanji leaned forward and kissed him, slowly, tenderly, passionately.
“We probably don’t want to wake anyone up,” he explained against Zoro’s lips.
“I don’t…” Zoro grasped for words. His vocabulary was failing him. “I don’t care. Sanji… More.”
Sanji pressed a kiss to his temple. “Say ‘please’?”
Zoro growled. Sanji laughed. He picked up the pace and his lover raised his hips to meet every thrust. Breathing raggedly, the cook asked Zoro to get on his knees. Zoro obeyed without protest, dizzy with want, only thinking of how much he wanted Sanji’s cock back inside him, pistoning in and out hitting him deep. He felt fingers dig into his hips and once again, Sanji slid inside him. He let out a long, low moan as he was filled up even deeper than before.
The next few minutes had Sanji upping the pace even more. Faster, harder, he angled himself to hit that sweet spot that unraveled Zoro and made him see stars. The lewd, wet sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by their grunts, moans, and whines. When Sanji’s pace started growing erratic, shallower, he babbled, “Zoro, love you, so sexy. So hot and wet and tight for me. Zoro, Zoro, Zoro…”
“Aungh, Sanji… A-ah, oh… San—nghhh—Sanji…”
The blond reached around and fisted Zoro’s weeping cock, pumping furiously in time with his thrusts. He sucked a new red mark on Zoro’s back, right below the nape of his neck. One of so, so many.
“I’m going to cum inside, Zoro,” he breathed.
“W-Wait… wait…” Zoro’s voice was a little shaky, but he forced the firmness. “Not like this. Need to… see you.”
Sanji hummed and pulled out again, almost making Zoro regret saying anything. The swordsman was on his back again, delirious with lust, needing his lover’s throbbing cock inside him again. He didn’t have to wait long. Sanji leaned over him and easily sheathed himself back inside. His arms snaked around Zoro’s waist, pulling him up so their bodies were flush against each other again. Zoro’s own arms wrapped around Sanji, his nails digging into the cook’s shoulderblades as he lost himself further and further into pleasure.
“Zoro, Zoro, love you,” Sanji said, over and over.
“Sanji… I’m going to—!”
“Me too.”
He’d flown off the edge, his eye blinded by starbursts of bliss. He grabbed on to Sanji for dear life and he could feel hot cum flooding inside of him as Sanji shook with the force of his orgasm. The blond kept thrusting, fucking his cum in deep, until finally, he collapsed on top of Zoro, making him wince a little.
“Sorry,” Sanji mumbled, before attempting to move off. Zoro caught him by the waist, gripping tightly.
“No,” he said firmly.
Sanji blinked. “We have to clean up,” he said.
“No,” Zoro repeated. “Stay.”
A pause. Then Sanji’s lips broke into a smile. “Okay,” he relented. “We stay. Do you want me to…?” He gestured at where his now-softening cock was still inside Zoro.
“No.”
“As you wish.”
Another kiss. Zoro sighed into it. This was real. He was sure of it. His heart wouldn’t be so full to bursting (like other parts of him were) if it were just a dream. Sanji was alive. He was here, tangled up with Zoro in a sweaty, cum-slicked mess. He’d said… He’d said he loved Zoro.
“Chopper isn’t just going to kill us,” Sanji said finally, breaking the silence. “He’s going to cut us up and hide the bodies.”
Zoro laughed, his hands in Sanji’s hair, pushing back the fringe that hid his other eye. “He can do that as long as he sticks me close to you.”
Sanji chuckled, nuzzling into Zoro’s throat. “Feel better?”
“Much.” The swordsman traced Sanji’s swirling eyebrows with his thumbs. “Thank you, Sanji.”
The cook purred at the sound of his name on Zoro’s lips. The sound stirred in Zoro’s belly, stoking that fire again. “Anything for you.”
The swordsman’s lips quirked upward into a smirk. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Then,” he said slowly, pushing Sanji onto his back and straddling him, still managing to keep the blond’s dick inside him, “one more time.”
Sanji grinned, sat up, and caught Zoro’s lips in a chaste kiss. “I did tell you I was gonna fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk.”
“Let’s see if you can do it.”
A growl. Sanji grabbed Zoro’s nape and tugged him forward as he fell back onto the futon. They fell together, willingly getting lost in each other again, and again, and again.